Ill Gotten Gain
by Sheol
Summary: Sequel to Heaven Forsake Me. The year anniversary of Gokuh's death is reached and Gohan is feeling guilty about it, when he is offered a sinister proposition from a mysterious source. Possible Gohan pairing in future... just not sure with who yet.


Disclaimer: No, don't own Dragon Ball Z. Just borrowing the characters.

A/N: Note that this is a continuance to another story I published a few years back, Heaven Forsake Me, which was about how Gohan felt guilty about the death of his father, very guilty, and wished he was never born only to have his wish granted- and then he got to see the world as it would have been if he was never born. This story picks up where that one left off in the epilogue... well, I am going to try to write it in a manner where you do not need to have read the first story to understand and follow this one. There will be very few, mild references to the first story, but only mostly in this first chapter. Though, if you did not read the first story, it will kind of ruin the first one...

If I remember correctly, I intended for the first story (Heaven Forsake Me) to be set six months after Gokuh's death in the Cell Saga, though I could not find an actual timeline anywheres in the first story other than the setting being 'after the cell saga'.

This first chapter begins and repeats a bit of the previous story's epilogue, and then it immediately switches to six months after the previous story ended (the one year anniversary of Gokuh's death).

**Setting**: After I finish reciting a bit of the epilogue from the previous story, it jumps six months, so Gohan will be about 12 in this story (one full year after the Cell saga ended).

**Story written from Gohan's perspective. Gohan's thoughts are in italics.**.. But the Italics at the beginning of the story from Proverbs are not Gohan's thoughts, it is just a quote. All the other italics are gohan's thoughts though.

Rated M because in future chapters... it will be very mature and dark.

Please read, enjoy, and review... I am very eager to hear what you guys think of this story since I've been planning it for so long.

_My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not. If they say, Come with us, __**let us lay wait for blood**__, let us lurk privily for the innocent without cause: Let us swallow them up alive as the grave; and whole, as those that go down into the pit... _

_My son, walk thou not in the way with them... _

_Surely __**in vain the net is spread in sight of any bird.**__ And they lay wait for their own blood; they lurk privily for their own lives. So are __**the ways of everyone who is of ill-gotten gain **__ [A/N: 'greedy of gain' in original KJV]; which __**taketh away the life of the owners thereof **__ (Proverbs 1:10-19 KJV)_

**Heaven Forsake Me II: ill-Gotten Gain**

_The Victory was Bitter, and it Soured my Stomach._

I realized the love of one willing to die for another. I did not kill him, and Cell did not kill him, and it was not suicide. Just like Videl didn't kill me. My father's death was of honor, and I hope when he looks at me he can see how I have tried so hard to be like him. But I can never be as much of a saint as him, and I am sorry. But I love him. I hope he can see that I still wish it was me that died that day. Because I love him. Because I want to be the son I wasn't that day. But I understand him now, and I now know why. I realize the love of one willing to die for another, and thank you father for all you have done. And I promise I will never forget, and I swear that I will honor your death. I am sorry father, forgive your son.

Chapter I- A Sinister Presence

"Maybe later Piccolo-san, my mother wants me home soon. See ya!" I shouted joyously as I waved by and sped off into the woods.

The sun was descending in the sky and the forest was shadowed deeply, the drop in temperature sending goosebumps up my arms. Mother will be furious if I am not home soon, so I began to follow a stream which was a shortcut, my leg muscles burning from the effort. My mouth became anxiously dry as I pictured my mother standing at the door impatiently, and I dropped to my knees in front of the stream for a drink.

The water danced before me, reflecting on the trees around me. It looked like the water was dancing across the trees. I admired this before I looked into the stream. I saw my face staring back at me, and I quickly bashed the reflection with my cupped hands gathering water to drink. I took a long sip enjoying the cool water against my throat before I looked back down at my reflection.

My eyes stared back at me, hollow and stealthy. I blinked and furrowed my brows questioningly, wondering if I was becoming ill. Then I felt uneasy, as I realized the face was not mine... I lifted my hand slowly and watched with increasing dread as the reflection lift his. Gaping in shock, I stared at the reflections hand. It was covered in dry blood which clung to every crevice, every print in the hand. And along its wrist he bore a deep inflicted gash. I looked slowly to my own palm which wore none of these traits. Slowly... shackily, I looked back, and all I saw was a deep shadow stretching across the stream where my reflection had been, for the sun had vanished from the sky, and I, along with all, am nothing but a shadow beneath the darkness of this sky.

I lowered my hand and stared into my shadow, my gut tying over in knots of fear. The sourness of my stomach had grown, and it now littered my throat. What was this? A mirage? Then a voice popped into my own head, a bitter voice which spoke flared with hate- "The guilt began to bury you as you fell to the ground and dropped your head from the light. How can you climb from here if you can't even stand? You began thinking of Cell and Piccolo, how it felt so good to see them bleed... like you were bleeding inside of your soul. You are too connected to me to slip away now, You are just as stained as they are- hold up your bloody palms to stare at them. Let it burn itself into your mind- a reminder of what you now are. Father,... look at your son now! LOOK at your fucking son RIGHT NOW."

I shook from the voice violently, unsure of how to react. Then the emotion of sorrow flared through me. "I am sorry! I said I was sorry! I am not like them, I swear! I am not a killer!"

"Murderer. you are just a murderer, just like they are." The voice sang tauntingly.

"No, I didn't kill my father. He died an honorable death- he died for the planet earth!" .and I am sorry, father, your son can never be like you. but I now understand at least, I know.

"You know, You know, what you know is the rush of blood in your hand, on your tongue."

"I have no blood on me! It was washed clean! It never happened!"

"Then why did you dream of it last night? What made you say those things to Vejita, to Piccolo, recognize Videl?"

"I said it never happened! God brought me back, so now all has been undone. It is has if none of it happened. I lost no time, all that is left is memories."

"Memories can't be created without time and action. There's images in your head, and they won't go away. You will never be the same, so why bother? Why bother to fight it? C'me on, you know what you want to do."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"He's still there... hurting your friends. Remember? Vejita killed your friends, and now he is killing Bulma from within. Are you not going to protect her? Or are you going to kill her, let her die, like with Cell. You killed her, and now you are doing it again by not helping, Letting her die."

"Vejita changed! He is on our side now! He is one of us! And he apologized to Bulma!"

"Then why does he act like he does? Why does he still claim he will one day rule the universe like he is meant to? He hit her, are you going to let him hurt her?"

"Empty threats. They are all empty threats-"

"Let them die, you are going to let them die, Let them all fall down."

"STOP IT!! STOP IT!!! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!"

I shouted as I fell over into a crouching position cupping my ears, attempting in futile to block out all the guilt weighted on my heart. I began to rock back and forth, comforted by the motion of my body, as I chanted my demand- get out of my head- filling my head with only my own voice, such a comforting motion, to and fro- to and fro- back and forth- , you can rely on it, knowing the to will always follow the fro, - to and fro, until the moon beamed down on me from high over head, and I was fast asleep on the ground next to the stream, flat on my chest.

And my shadow danced over the water from within the stream, as I slept, wide awake my shadow waited.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

(A/N: Six months pass)

I walked towards mothers house with the warm morning sun shining on my damp back. Some leaves were sticking out of my hair and dew glistened on my skin. I couldn't believe I slept all night out there! I was so exhausted from sparring with Piccolo, I just fell asleep out there in the woods. I felt my body shake a bit from the tension. Mother is going to kill me! I came to a sudden stop in front of my house and stared at the door. My stomach began tying over in knots as I reached for the door knob, then I stopped. Something was wrong. Usually mother was cooking in the morning, or some sort of activity was coming from the house. She was never this quiet. She couldn't be. She had made an off hand comment once before that if she is still she thinks of father.

A lump formed in my throat as the silence deadend my nerves. "She couldn't have..." Without any further hesitation I flung open the door and rushed inside. "MOTHER!" I screamed at the top of my lungs in a cold sweat.

Mother quickly shoved a bottle into the drawer of the living room table. "Gohan! What's the matter with you?!" She demanded flustered.

Mother was sitting on the coach in a sluggish manner with her dress sleave hanging slightly off her shoulder. Her hair was falling out of her bun and bags hung beneath her eyes. The skin on her face shined with oil, everything about her was disheveled. I stepped slowly into the room and looked about. It was usually so clean, too clean in fact, but now discarder containers littered the face of the table that sat across from the couch, and the tv, muted, flickered out an old romance story. It was then that the smell hit me- alcohol. But mother didn't drink.

"I- I'm sorry mother. I just thought..." My voice trailed off.

"You thought what!" Mother said sharply.

"You were dead." I muttered.

Mother's face softened a bit. She came to me and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. I leaned into it as I began to relax and breathed in deeply. The smell of alcohol stung my nose and my eyes began to water a bit.

"There, there. Don't worry Gohan. I'm not going anywheres. I promise. Now it is late and you have school tomorrow morning. Go lay down for bed." Her voice, reassuring.

I pulled back and looked at her in disbelief. It was morning! "Is something wrong?" I asked a bit scared.

Mother looked away from me avoiding my eyes. She looked distant for a moment as if staring somewheres far away. "It's just been one full year now. That's all. Now go to bed sweetie."

That's when it hit me. Yesterday was the anniversary of father's death, and I wasn't even home for it! A feeling of guilt washed over me. Since father's death mother and I had slept in the same bed together, because neither of us could handle being alone at night. And where was I last night? Mother had to be alone on the anniversary of his death. I looked down at my feet. "I'm sorry mother." I whispered ashamed, as I left for my room.

I laid down on my bed and began to cry. Nothing has been right since his death, nothing. If only I hadn't been so stubborn, if only I had killed Cell when I had the chance, if only there was some way to bring him back...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Bulma stood infront of Gokuh's grave admiring all the flowers that decorated it. Trunks cooed and Bulma shifted him to her other arm, muscles burning from the extra weight. "Look Vejita! Krillin picked such beautiful flowers. Oh! And look at the peace lily that Piccolo brought!"

"Yes that's nice woman, can we go now." Vejita said annoyed. He felt uncomfortable at Gokuh's grave. He wished for so many years to be stronger than him, and then Gokuh had to go and die on him. And such an honorable death! It just didn't sit right with Vejita. Afterall, if it wasn't for Gokuh he'd be dead right now. So now who is stronger? And there is nothing Vejita can do to prove otherwise.

Bulma looked over every inch of the flowers. "Wait... there's not any from Chi Chi or Gohan." She looked over to Vejita, concern written across her face. "I hope she's alright."

"Well if you are so worried about Kakarrot's woman then why don't you call her." Vejita paused, then furrowed his brow in annoyance picturing Bulma on the phone chatting for hours. "On the way home."

Bulma ignored his last comment. "Oh, that's a wonderful idea!" She whipped out her cell phone and speed dialed her number. Slowly her smile faded into worry. "She didn't answer." She slowly put away her phone. "Maybe we should go visit her."

"If she doesn't answer then she doesn't want to talk." Vejita said bluntly, irritation giving way to boredom. "Let her have her space."

Bulma remained silent for a moment thinking it over carefully. "Okay, perhaps your right. But if she doesn't answer tomorrow I'm going over for a visit. She's just not been herself since Gokuh's death. I feel so sorry for her, Vejita. She scares me sometimes."

Vejita shifted his weight uncomfortably, not sure how to handle the situation. Battles were easy, cut and dry. But women were so complicated. "Kakarrot's grave has been visited, now let's go already."

Bulma smiled tenderly and nodded.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I slowly came to on my bed and pushed myself into a sitting position. The room was pitch black. I could hear static coming from the living room. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "I can't believe it's night time already! Did I really sleep all day?" The shock hung on my words. I looked around me at the dark room and felt the impending isolation tugging at me. I didn't want to sleep alone. "Oh please don't make me sleep alone mother." I whimpered into the darkness.

I walked out into the living room and saw mother passed out in a sitting position on the couch, a half empty bottle hanging loosely from her hand. I felt the guilt return twisting my stomach into a pained knot. I slowly pushed the hair from her eyes as the oil from her skin moistened my fingers. I put my hand to my lips and tasted it... salt bit my tongue... Tears, not oil. The corners of her mouth were raised in a smile. She must be having a good dream. I reached up to the top of the couch and carefully removed the throw blanket. I draped the blanket over her small frame and began lovingly tucking her in.

I heard a chime as something hit the floor. A little surprised I bent down and scooped up the small object. "Mother's wedding ring." I whispered softly, turning to smooth metal over between my fingers.

I looked back to mother. The light from the static tv played over her shadowed features. Her wrinkles had grown quickly over the past year aging her painfully, but I could still see somewheres on her face the mother I remembered from childhood. What I wouldn't give to bring that mother back. Carefully, I slid the drawer of the table open out of curiosity trying hard not to wake her. Empty bottles littered the inside. I swallowed hard feeling a lump of shame form in my throat.

"I am so sorry mother." I apologized as I leaned over and kissed her head.

Mother shifted beneath my kiss and smiled. "Gokuh..." Words of longing... then she drifted back into her deep sleep.

I stood there for a moment lost in thought. "If only I had come home last night." I muttered, staring at the result of my offense.

I walked over to the tv and hit the power button turning it off and began to walk away, no longer feeling comfortable in mother's presence, when a mechanical sound made me turn. A tape had automatically ejected itself from the VCR. I could barely make out the words on the tape, but I was sure it read "Our Wedding". I swallowed hard, the shame growing further in my throat as the walls began to close in, and before another thought passed through my brain, out of instinct, my feet carried out the house... father watching me closely from a photograph on the wall.

I walked through the woods following the path in the moonlight as best as possible, the darkness providing some comfort, as if hiding my past sin, until I came to a tree that overlooked a stream. A high pitched twinkle filled the air playing music across the wind as water flowed past smooth rocks. I paused for a moment admiring peacefully how the light glittered over the water, and then it hit me- this is where father use to take us to fish. I stared wantingly at the scene before me as I saw father wading in the water with his pants rolled up wrestling with a giant fish, that goofy smile on his face. A smaller version of me cheered him on from the shore from my mother's lap. And mother, she watched with such an adoration in her eyes, that smile on her face. She was so happy. I swore I could almost hear her musical laugh.

I dropped to my knees in front of the stream and placed my hands in the shallow water, its cool tendrils twisting through my fingers. I was so exhausted. I watched, trying desperately to clear my mind, as my fingers pressed into moist dirt in the bottom of the stream stirring up small dust clouds. The water swirled around my wrists gently disturbing the surface and distorting my reflection. It was suitable though, the way it distorted it.

"Father, you know if I could trade I would." I whispered at my saddened face.

"Is that so?" My reflection asked me, a sly smile creeping over my features.

I blinked surprised, before my eyes filled with fright- frightened of myself- as I slid my water slickened fingers through my hair and gripped it hard, like it was my life's reins. _I must be losing my mind..._

"Not at all..." My voice was smooth, steady... confident, and the smile devious beyond measure. "I see your mind quite easily... not lost at all."

My hand snapped across the water violently distorting the reflection with ripples until the image vanished. I realized suddenly I had been holding my breath, and released it cautiously, a terror I did not know I held melting away, clenched muscles relaxing... until a cold chill prickled up my spine like a spider's legs.

"My, my... such caged hostility." The voice chided softly in a reserved manner from behind. "Have you ever considered... letting it go?"

I swallowed nervously, aware of the implications it was suggesting, of the damage he was suggesting me to do. I turned around slowly, oh so painstakingly, until I was seated facing the source of the voice... A dark shadow, the blackest of midnights in the form of a preteen about my age, with no visible features sitting relaxed on the ground. I blinked hard in disbelief, expecting the aparition to vanish when I open my eyes, but the dark figure remained, and I saw the dark pools where eyes should be staring at me, expectedly.

"Who are you..." My voice sounded far away, in wonderment.

The dark form motioned effortlessly to the soft ground, the lithe apendages flowing like air. My eyes trailed downward, noticing the seated shadow possessed a shadow of his own, and curiously my eyes chased the shadow until it arrived at.... me. Slowly, my mind registered this information- My shadow is his shadow. My eyes snapped back up to meet his dark sockets, narrowing suspiciously.

"Who are you." I demanded sternly.

"It is of no consequence to you..." The voice, so similar to mine, yet spoken so smoothly it sounded foreign. "But the offer is of my concern." My eyes continued to hold him in suspicion, and I should have stopped him. Looking back, I should have run far... far away, but I did not. Why did I not run? "The trade, I accept." He spoke matter of fact.

"What trade." My words were harsh, but I could not hide the interest from them.

"Exactly how valuable is your father's life. How much would you trade." The silky smooth voice had developed some amusement in it, a rather dark amusement.

Quickly, perhaps too quickly, I spat, "I would trade anything!" the rage shaking my voice at the thought of father's life not possessing value.

"Anything..." The way the voice tug on those words sent a cold chill racing across my body. I nodded my head,...

... come, **let us lay wait for blood...**

and yet, it felt so surreal it was as if it was not nodding at all. "Five lives." He spoke with complacency.

"What." The harshness had left my voice, surprise entering in its wake, which was soon replaced by fear as the shadow spoke its next words.

"Five lives in exchange for your father's... Are you touched in the head?" The shadow took in my fear, bathing in it, before retorting in a calm, deliberate manner. "What happened to your rage? You were so... angry... that I finally came. Are you this afraid of me, child?"

I hardened my eyes, furrowing my brows, "I'm not afraid," but the fear still shone behind my determination, "And I'm through talking to you. Go away!" I stood quickly, the shadow mirroring my movements.

"Of course not. Move forward with your mother's slow suicide. Your lack of concern is apparent in your neglect." The calculated pulling of strings from an apathetic voice.

Hurt flared in my eyes, an image of mother loosely gripping a bottle with a tear stained face, a lump of guilt forming in my throat. "Shut up! My mother, I- I love her!"

"And where were you last night?"

Silence.

Deafening silence. A mechanical click as the VCR spat out the wedding video, a hollow image for my father's empty place... and my gut tied over into neat little aching balls of sin.

"I-..." I gritted my teeth in anger, guilt, my fists clenching to white knuckles as I shifted through my mind for a response, but had none... _Where was I last night..._ My eyes faltered to the ground in shame. _I killed father... now I'm slowly killing mother._ My soul trembled beneath the burden.

"Your father, your mother, not even worth five lives to you... not even worth yours. After all, he's dead... not you." The placid voice paused, waiting for an anticipated response, before finishing, "Very well then."

"Wait!" I sucked in air greedily, my body shaking from the effort. My heart clenched in my chest painfully with grief. _My father... my mother... not again. I cannot stand by and let it happen again._ "Father... is worth five lives... at the least." My voice etched in sorrow, and it felt like such a dream.

I could almost swear I saw the shadow smile, such a sinister pleasure.

"... I get to pick the lives, my dear." The smooth voice cut through me like a blade, as it hit me full force.

"No, wait, I-" My desperate words died, and in a blink of an eye, the shadow seemingly fell into the ground. I stood, stunned, before I fell to my knees and began gliding my hand across the shadow on the ground which mirrored me flawlessly. Pausing, I stared back at the shadow,... the dark, normal shadow which has always followed me since my childhood.

_Did I just dream this?..._ Confidence asserted in me. _No... I didn't... But, can I?..._ Thoughts of mother's face, aged well beyond its years from the stress, anguish. Her tortured eyes, watching me grow this past year, as her fingers run through my hair in a melancholy manner.

_"You look so much like your father, Gohan..."_ But I can hear it in her voice, see it in her tormented eyes, the real words... _Why must you look so much like your father?..._

_I can do this. I said I would trade for father and I will, for mother's sake, for father. I OWE it to them, my debt for killing father, I must. But can I?_

A hot drop splattered against the back of my palm, and I blinked myself to reality, staring at the ground I was kneeling crouched down to. Shakily, I raised fingertips to my face and touched my heated cheaks, trailing their tips in the moist streams.

_I'm crying..._

I rubbed a droplet between two tips, watching the hot droplet, fall from it to the ground, seeping into my icy shadow.

_It does not hurt that much... I can carry it..._

_**...I always have...**_

_Why am I still crying?..._

**...and taketh away the life of the owners thereof...**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: So what do you guys think? Is the story good? should I continue or trash it and start over? Let me know!

Oh, and to clarify, the part of the quote inserted in the story "come, let us lay wait for blood" and "and taketh away the life of the owners thereof" is not actually spoken to Gohan or thought by Gohan. The quote at the beginning of the story is just a quote, its not thought or spoken either. Again, Gohan's thoughts are in italics, though this story is written through Gohan's POV. 


End file.
